


it's only just a dream

by rinthegreat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Wow my summary is bad, there is real plot this isn't domestic fluff, we need more established relationship working through things together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Keith's been having nightmares that he can't remember come morning. All he knows is that Lance is in trouble and he's not going to let anything happen to him.





	it's only just a dream

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my established Klance fic! I've actually been planning this one for a while, and the first chapter has been 1/2 written on my computer so I was like "yeah I should finish this". I was originally going to make this a huge oneshot, but then I thought "hey there are so few chaptered established relationship fics. I should split this up." So i did! I am terrible at predicting word count, but I expect this to be somewhere between 5 and 10 chapters. Updates will be erratic because of other projects I have, but I wanted to get chapter 1 out rather than have it sit on my computer longer.
> 
> One more thing before we get to it: this is unbetaed. I have 2 betas, and they are both overwhelmed with my other projects. I will still try to get the best quality out to you guys, but until further notice this is all just me writing and editing. Please forgive any mistakes!

Keith bursts upright in a cold sweat, knife drawn. His breaths come out ragged, his eyes searching around before his surroundings register. He’s in bed. It was just a dream. He closes his eyes and counts to ten, forcing his heartbeat to slow along with his breathing. Already, the dream is fuzzy – he can’t even remember what it was about anymore. Keith opens his eyes and slips his knife back under the mattress before sinking down.

Which is how he notices: he’s alone.

Once again, he bolts upright. Lance isn’t on the other side of the bed. The sheets are rumpled, but Keith could’ve done that himself. When he puts his hand where Lance _should_ be laying, he can’t tell if it’s warm or cold. If anything it seems room temperature.

Keith kicks off the blankets and jumps out of bed. He’s always on edge when he wakes up from a nightmare or if he wakes up alone. Waking up _alone_ from a nightmare? He can’t handle it. Not anymore.

He manages to pull on his boots and a shirt, not bothering with pants or even his gloves before he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. Times like these, Keith’s glad he’s part-Galra. Glad he can see in the dark. It makes it all the easier for him to race down the hallways, heading to the place where he hopes Lance is. Where he goes when he can’t sleep.

The kitchen.

The light’s on when he bursts in, nearly blinding him. Keith covers his eyes reflexively, wishing he’d remembered his knife. What if someone left the light on? What if it’s just Hunk in here, stress cooking? What if Lance is hurt? Or injured? Captured? Oh, god, what if Lance is –

“Keith?”

Keith lowers his arms, looking over at Lance seated casually at the counter. There’s a bowl of green goop in front of him, spoon paused halfway to his mouth. His lip is quirked up, a welcoming smile aimed Keith’s way as Lance watches him.

He looks like he’s going to say something, but before he can, Keith closes the gap between them, dropping his forehead to Lance’s shoulder. He hears the tell-tale sign of goop dropping onto the table but ignores it, soaking up Lance’s warmth instead.

The spoon clatters into the bowl, and moments later fingers thread themselves through Keith’s hair. He breaths out a sigh, shoulders slumping forward. When he inhales next, he makes sure to take a deep breath, breathe in the scent that is distinctly _Lance_.

“Bad dream?” Lance murmurs, still combing his fingers through his hair.

Keith nods.

Lance shifts, pushing Keith’s weight away. Before he can protest, Lance pulls him back in, to his chest this time for a proper hug. Keith wraps his arms around Lance, gripping the back of Lance’s shirt in tight fists.

The way Lance pets his hair calms him down almost instantly. Honestly, Lance could probably smack him across the face and it would calm him, purely by virtue of it being _Lance_ who did it. Keith’s still slouched over, back uncomfortably bent so he can keep his face buried in Lance’s chest, but he doesn’t want to move.

Lips press feather light to the top of his head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Keith shakes his head.

“Is that because you want to forget or because you forgot already?”

“Second one,” Keith mumbles into Lance’s shirt.

“Can’t hear you, babe.”

Keith twists his head so he can finally breathe fresh air. “Second one.”

Lance hums in sympathy. They all get nightmares these days. Keith’s heard more than one set of footsteps pace past their door, walked into an already-in-use training session when he’s needed to let off steam. He knows they all have issues, really. He just thinks it should be getting better.

Instead, his seem to be getting worse.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Lance murmurs, lips pressing to his scalp. He’s good at comforting Keith, good at keeping him grounded. Keith just hopes that Lance feels somewhat the same when he returns the favor.

Keith can’t say he’s comfortable here, neck cramping as he tries to burrow into Lance’s chest. He’d rather be horizontal, able to wrap his legs around Lance so he _really_ can’t sneak out of bed again. Keith nods.

Lance taps his back. “Then you’re gonna have to get off me so I can put the rest of this goop away.”

For a moment, he tenses. His knuckles turn white from the strength at which he clenches his fists against Lance’s shirt. But then Lance’s fingers brush over the back of his neck, and Keith can’t do anything but release him.

At the very least, Lance moves quickly. Keith hovers next to the counter, eyes tracking his every movement. He’s efficient, cleaning up the mess and putting the bowl away to finish later. In less than a minute, he’s back by Keith’s side, hand extended.

Keith grabs it, pulling Lance in closer so they’re shoulders are pressed together. Even one minute’s too long. “Man, your nightmare was pretty bad this time, wasn’t it?” Lance asks, leading them out of the kitchen and back towards their room.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I can’t remember.”

“Still. Shook you up pretty good.”

He can’t come up with a comeback to that so instead Keith squeezes Lance’s hand tighter. “I don’t like waking up to you not there.”

Lance winces. “I tried to wake you up, but you were sleeping pretty deeply.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The door to their room slides open. “Like I said you seem – oomph!”

Keith tugs Lance in and pulls him to the bed immediately. The two of them tumble down, and Keith wraps himself around Lance as soon as they’re both horizontal. This is better. Lance is here, with him, right now. Just the two of them. “Shut up,” he mumbles, burying his nose in the crook of Lance’s neck.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

Lance turns towards him, causing Keith to grunt in protest. “You know I’m not gonna leave you, right?”

“I know.”

“And I’m not gonna disappear just because I want a midnight snack.”

“Lance,” Keith breathes, closing his eyes. “Please. I just want to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next time he wakes up it’s to Lance’s deep breathing. Keith likes to study him while he sleeps, likes to see his face, soft and carefree. The war has aged them all so fast in such a short time – the only time Lance looks his age anymore is when he sleeps.

As if feeling Keith's gaze on him, Lance stirs. His smooth face gets marred with a frown just before he opens his eyes. Immediately, his expression morphs into a smile, and Keith can’t resist doing anything aside from reach out and stroke his cheek. If it weren’t for how much he knows Lance hates his morning breath, he’d kiss him too.

“Were you watching me sleep again?” Lance whispers, cupping his own hand around Keith’s.

“No.”

Lance laughs. “You’re a terrible liar.”

A year ago, Keith would’ve punched anyone who would’ve dared to imply he’d get this sappy. But a lot can change in a year’s time, and he knows better to pretend when he could lose anything any moment. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Lance props himself up on his elbow, letting Keith’s hand drop off his face and looks down at him. “Hey are you okay? You didn’t have another nightmare again, did you?”

Keith shakes his head.

“You gonna tell me why you’re still acting like this then?”

“I always act like this,” Keith huffs.

“Like you’re gonna lose me at any moment?” Keith bites his lip and looks away, but Lance sighs, dropping a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll snap out of it, babe. I believe in you.”

Keith lets out a huff as Lance flops down right on top of him. “Now who’s acting clingy?”

“I’m always clingy.” Keith hums his agreement as Lance readjusts. He always tries to get a reaction out of Keith when he does it – Keith doesn’t know why, but they’ve turned it into a competition. Lance rolls around on top of him, and Keith does his best to not make a single sound. Lance gives up pretty fast today though, nuzzling his face into the crook of Keith’s neck. “What time is it anyway?”

It doesn’t matter what time it is, as far as he’s concerned – Keith would lie here with Lance forever if given the option. He glances over towards the clock, but he can’t see it from this angle. “Not sure. If we were late to training, though, someone would’ve already –“

Three knocks bang on the door before Keith can even finish his comment. “Guys, wake the quiznak up!” Pidge’s voice shouts from the other side.

Keith sighs. So much for lazing around. “Well, that answers that,” Lance remarks, unconcerned. “Tell Allura and Shiro we’re calling in sick!” He shouts out to Pidge. Keith’s lips curl up in a smile – at least he’s not the only one who wants to take a day off.

“You know I can get into your room. Don’t make me come in and get you myself,” Pidge threatens.

“And traumatize yourself for life? How do you know we’re not doing it right now?”

“Because, _Lance_ , you’re loud in bed.”

Keith’s entire face flames. He covers his eyes with his arm, hoping Lance doesn’t notice how red he’s turning. Lance’s soft chuckle says otherwise. “How do you know I’m not bottoming?” He taunts Pidge, and when Keith peeks out, he catches Lance’s cocky look. Oh dear lord.

“Because you’re louder when you bottom,” Pidge deadpans. “Keith, do you want me to break into your room? Talk some sense into your worse half.”

“We’re getting up,” Keith calls, bravely ignoring the crack in his own voice that he knows the other two didn’t miss. “Give us a few minutes.”

Pidge would argue, but she’s always had a weak spot for him. So instead he hears grumbling on the other side of the door. “Okay but please hurry or next time it’ll be Allura.” Soft steps disappear down the hall, leaving the two of them in peace for now.

“Maybe we should give them a show,” Lance purrs, lips pressing to Keith’s neck.

He’s weak for Lance, always has been, and he can’t help the sound that comes out of his mouth. “We need to get to training,” he protests anyway.

“B _aa_ be,” Lance complains, drawing out the word.

“I have morning breath.”

That works. Lance rolls off him with a huff, feet hitting the floor with a slap. “You always kill the mood, Kogane,” he pouts. There’s no heat to his words, only a light teasing, but Keith rolls up next to Lance and drapes his arm over his shoulder.

“You’ll get over it.”

“Maybe, but you owe me.”

Keith shoves him. They both climb out of bed and stumble around each other, getting ready for the day. Lance steals a few real kisses from him once their teeth are brushed, while they stumble around, tugging on their clothes. Before, when they first got together, Keith had a hard time keeping his hands off Lance. Something like this, stolen kisses half-dressed, would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve shoved Lance against the door and taken him right then, training be damned.

He still gets the urge now. Every touch of Lance’s ignites a fire under his skin, the same as it had before. But Keith’s learned how to control it; he’s mastered the skill of pushing his desires down, promising himself that later, later he’ll act on them. So he’s able to pull on his clothes between kisses rather than rip off Lance’s clothes the way he wants to.

They tug on their armor, only getting slightly distracted, and race out of the room. They’re the last in the training room, as expected. Shiro gives them an unimpressed look, but Keith just glares back. He’s long since gotten over his embarrassment over being in a relationship with Lance.

Shiro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright team, today we’re going to work on getting prisoners off a ship. We’ll be simulating this using the maze. The maze will stay visible to act as a hallway, and gladiators will simulate the Galra and their drones. Coran will act as our prisoner.”

“I want to be the prisoner!” Lance exclaims.

Shiro raises his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Damsel in distress? Ready to be saved by a brave knight?” He shoots Keith a wink. “I think I can handle it.”

“You just called yourself a damsel,” Pidge points out. She and Hunk fist bump, but the other three ignore them

Keith rolls his eyes, not bothering to hide the small smirk that curls over his lips. “That’s just because you know you’ll be too slow to save Coran before me.”

“Is that a challenge, Samurai?” Lance asks, lips quirking as he taunts Keith. It’s all just show now, has been for a while. But that doesn’t stop the rush of competition Keith feels every time Lance challenges him to one of his silly games.

“Depends. Do you want it to be?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Shiro steps up to them, placing one hand on each of their chests and pushing them away as if he’s afraid they’re going to go for each other’s throats. Or start making out in public. Both options are ridiculous; they haven’t done either for some time. “Lance, you can be the prisoner if that means you and Keith won’t compete.”

“Alright!” Lance pumps his fist.

“Fine,” Keith agrees. “But I’m saving him.”

Lance flutters his lashes at him. “My hero.”

“You two are disgusting,” Pidge points out. “And I hate to break it to you, but we’re all saving him.”

“Yeah, I want to save Lance too,” Hunk interjects.

Lance nods to him. “Of course, buddy. You’re my knight too.” The two of them fist bump, and Keith rolls his eyes.

Shiro seems to have given up. “We _all_ save Lance, just like Pidge said. We need to work together as a team. Allura?”

“On my way.” Allura’s voice comes from the speakers all around them.

“Lance,” Shiro instructs, “Coran had something in mind for the prisoner scenario. Go find him and have him tell you where to be in the maze. The rest of us will come up with a plan.”

“Right-o, Boss Man.” Lance salutes Shiro and winks at Keith before jogging off. He high fives Allura as she comes in, a habit they’ve gotten into when switching who acts as the Blue paladin.

The simulation is actually pretty cool. The team steps out of the deck at Coran’s command and don’t come back in until he calls them. The maze walls are purple, and somehow Coran’s messed with the lights, turning them purple too. The room genuinely looks like a Galra prison ship; Keith’s impressed. Hunk lets out a soft “whoa,” while Pidge whistles. Shiro grits his teeth. “Let’s get to it, team,” he says, voice strained the way it is when they board one of these. The simulation might be a touch _too_ realistic for Shiro, but the black paladin doesn’t say anything about it.

The team dynamic is different without Lance. They’ve experienced it before – benefit of having six paladins with five lions – but that doesn’t mean it’s not jarring every time. Allura’s great, she fits in well with the team, and Keith will never complain about working alongside her. But she’s not Lance. She doesn’t have the same knack at keeping the team from getting too serious. Instead, she tends to be the one to need Lance to keep _her_ from being too serious.

They enter the maze as a group; one of the challenges is not knowing where they’re going. No Pidge robots to guide them this time, no memories of Shiro’s to guide them through. Just their own wits. So when they hit the first intersection, the natural thing to do is split them into two groups.

“Pidge, you’re with me. Keith, you take Hunk and Allura,” Shiro instructs. Whenever they split up, this is how it goes. Shiro takes one group and Keith takes the other. The real black paladin and the backup, leading separate groups.

“Got it.” Keith nods to the other two, and they go right while Shiro and Pidge go left.

The maze halls are quiet as they creep through. Too quiet. “Look out!” Hunk yells, Bayard immediately forming into his gun. Keith spins around, sword appearing in time to see the first of the gladiators appear around the corner.

Hunk shoots, but his shots go wide. There’s a reason he has a mini gun instead of Lance’s precision sniper. Keith moves to the gladiator, but Allura’s faster. She leaps, using her Bayard as a staff to vault over Keith’s head. Almost immediately as she lands, it changes into a whip. She snaps it out, wrapping it around the gladiator and pulls, cutting it in half.

“Uh, guys? I think more of them heard us.” Hunk points down the hall they’d come from where another gladiator appears.

“I can handle this. Keith, Hunk, I believe you have a task to complete,” Allura tells them.

It’s not a real mission, Keith reminds himself. But still, he can’t help but think of the gas planet, chasing Lotor. Lance’s shout, holding him back. They need to stick together as a team.

But no, this mission is designed to push them out of their comfort zone, and Keith knows that. So instead he nods to Allura and turns to the direction they’re headed down. “Come on, Hunk. We need to move.”

The two of them leave Allura behind, continuing down the hallway. He can practically feel Hunk vibrating behind him, Bayard still in gun form. It turns out to be a good thing when they hit the next intersection. A gladiator leaps out at them, startling a yelp from Hunk.

It’s followed by a barrage of shots from the yellow paladin. Loud shots.

“They’re headed your way, Keith,” Shiro’s voice warns in his helmet.

“What?”

“I think they’re going to the loudest area,” Pidge interjects. “The maze must be connected. We can follow them and meet up with you.”

“No,” Keith says. “Hunk, keep distracting them. I’m going to find Lance.”

“Wait, Keith!”

But Keith’s already off, running down the hall. He moves by gut, trusting his instinct. It doesn’t lead him directly to Lance – he hits a few dead ends, runs into a few more gladiators. But at least his sword’s quieter than Hunk’s gun. He dispatches each gladiator swiftly. They’re set to a lower level than he usually trains with, enough so a one-on-one match isn’t difficult, but high enough that a swarm of them – or even multiple in a row – wears him out.

He pushes through it, growing more and more frustrated as he hits each dead end with no Lance in sight. But finally, finally he sees it. A hall that opens just a little wider than the others, looking more like a room just another hallway. And there, at the end, is Lance. He’s in paladin armor, but he’s lying down on his side, restraints holding him in place.

Lance. Captive.

Keith loses it. He charges the next gladiator to appear, stabbing it through the eye before it can draw its hand back to attack. He flips it over himself, slamming it into the ground, then pulls out his sword. He stabs it again and again, losing track of time, of space, of himself.

“Keith!” The shout is accompanied by a sharp tug on his shoulder. He whips around, sword still bared, but Shiro’s hand catches it, sending sparks flying. Keith freezes. “Calm down.”

Keith looks around himself, registering his surroundings. The room is no longer purple. All the walls are down, and Keith sees the paladins standing there – even Lance, free of his restraints. All staring at him, wide eyed. Like he’d just become a monster. He glances down at the gladiator, ripped to shreds, destroyed beyond repair. He’d done that. “Sorry.” Keith drops his sword. “Sorry,” he says again before turning and sprinting out of the training room.

 

* * *

 

 

He’s in their room when Lance finds him. More specifically, he’s in the shower, water set to scalding hot as he tries to wash…whatever the fuck just happened off of him. Lance’s arrival is marked by three sharp knocks on the bathroom door. “Keith? I’m coming in.”

Lance doesn’t wait for an answer before he walks inside. Keith hears the hard crashes of armor hitting the ground followed by the shifting of fabric. Then the shower door slides open, and Lance steps in, arms immediately coming around Keith. He leans back into Lance’s embrace. “This water is scalding,” Lance complains.

Keith huffs but turns it down. “Better?”

“Mhm. Much.”

Neither of them even try to move for a while, just standing there as the water rushes over them. Lance drops his head to Keith’s shoulder, kissing it. “Want to tell me what happened earlier?” He asks, hands sliding down Keith’s arm until their fingers entwine.

“What’s to tell?”

“You kinda lost your shit, babe. I think there’s a lot to tell.”

Keith closes his eyes, remembering the sight of Lance lying there, restrained. His fingers tighten around Lance’s. “You were tied up.”

“I was the prisoner. I volunteered, remember?”

“I remember. I just…I couldn’t stand seeing you like that.”

Lance backs up, turning Keith so they’re facing each other. “Is this about that dream?”

Keith growls, frustrated. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“I’m here, right now, with you.”

“I know.”

Lance continues. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Keith growls again, crowding Lance up against the wall. “I know.”

He seals their lips together, a touch too desperate. But if Lance cares, he doesn’t show it. His fingers tangle in Keith’s hair, tugging the way they do when he’s really insistent they take it further. Keith knows the simulation today was just that: a simulation. But that doesn’t stop him from running his hands over every part of Lance’s body he can reach, checking for injuries at first. When he doesn’t find any, his motions change. He’s memorized every inch of Lance’s skin, but he’ll still never stop exploring it.

Lance’s leg hooks over his hip, and Keith doesn’t pretend this is going anywhere else. He kisses across Lance’s cheekbone, up behind his ear. He’s immensely glad they keep lube in the shower, easily accessible. He presses his fingers in, and Lance lets out a loud moan.

They’ve done this before, enough times that Keith knows the exact moment Lance is prepared enough for him to push in. They let out twin groans when he does, pausing to catch their breath. And then Keith’s moving. They’ve done this – a hundred times now – but for Keith, every time feels like the first. Lance’s hands claw at his back, tug at his hair, squeeze his ass. He moans with almost every single one of Keith’s thrusts. In all this time, he’s never known if Lance does that because he knows Keith likes hearing his voice, or if it’s just because he’s a loud person.

And Keith, he can’t keep his mouth off Lance when they do this. Keith marks his neck, his shoulders, his collarbone, his chest. Anywhere he can reach while still moving. They glide together against the wall, Keith doing his damnedest to keep them from slipping.

Lance drinks up Keith’s desperation, the way he always does. He moans Keith’s name over and over again, like a prayer. And the way Lance looks at him…it’s like no one has ever looked at him before. As if Keith contains all the secrets of the universe. As if Lance is lucky to have him.

But no, Keith’s always been the lucky one.

He pulls out just before he finishes, coming between Lance’s thighs. Lance drops his leg, holding his own weight now, as he grinds against Keith, chasing his own release. It doesn’t take long, but Keith helps him through it, hand dropping between them, mouth fixed firmly on Lance’s. He swallows down the moan as Lance comes, filing it away in his mind with all the other ones.

They stay there for a little while, Keith’s hand still stuck between them. He kisses Lance, lips focused on his jaw as Lance catches his breath. Even when he does, Keith refuses to move away, pressing his nose into Lance’s cheek instead.

Finally, Lance reaches out and shuts off the water. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, dropping his mouth to the mark already forming where Lance’s neck meets his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss there. “I do now.”

**Author's Note:**

> See what I'm doing and find ways to support me on [tumblr](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/)  
> Other projects I have going on is on [this post](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/post/165848153837/massive-update-all-at-once)  
> And if you want to see just updates, drabbles, and previews, they are on [this tag](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/tagged/cat-writes-fanfiction)


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